


Ariadne and Theseus

by DrVauclair



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Bob please secure your connection just for once ok, Canon Compliant as much as possible, Conspiracy, Gen, Illuminati, Majestic 12, conspirators meeting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-12 10:19:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11159853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrVauclair/pseuds/DrVauclair
Summary: As David Sarif plans to make Dr. Reed's groundbreaking scientific discovery public knowledge, an ellusive group of conspirators discusses the matter and how to handle the situation. While they work on several solutions to stop the loss of control over the world due to the rise of augmented people - like a biochip with shutdown abilites or an UN resolution - the leaders of Majestic 12 decide that Reed's research would be better off in their hands and not in Sarif's.





	1. Is Everything in Place?

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, here is the first chapter of my attempt on actual fanfiction with several chapters. I am used to write and post on [ Tumblr ](http://thorndale-industries.tumblr.com/) where I usually post drabbles and one shots about my Deus Ex verse. I stick to the canon as much as possible, since this is highly important to me and I wanted to shift the focus from Adam to the Illuminati from the point of view of my own Original Character: Dr. Gillian Thorndale. 
> 
> If you are not familiar with my OC, feel free to check [ her bio ](http://thorndale-industries.tumblr.com/about-gillian) and [ Bob Page’s ](http://thorndale-industries.tumblr.com/about-robert) as well to get a better insight of my verse.

Dark, impervious rain clouds covered the city of London, and kept the old streets within their tight grip. They crept over the city like a menacing shadow, a dim guardian, whom concealed and prevented those bright illuminating rays of sunlight from reaching the ground. They were an unwelcomed harbinger with a strong voice, proclaiming their master's arrival, whom would haunt those who dared to walk the streets, knock on every single window, and ascertain that the citizens behaved and bowed before its will. Nothing would remain unseen.  
The white haired CEO stepped out of the old, wooden elevator, and knocked on its metallic frame with the remarkable iron ring on her right middle finger without making a sound. Five deep breaths, and she placed the old-fashioned black, unused, umbrella into its stand right next to the entrance. She had been lucky. She had been spared. A little nod towards the blond secretary, fifteen firm steps on dark parquet, and one gentle press against the door's automatic lock - this is all it took to open the gates to her own little liar: The outpost to her kingdom, unfolding to her majesty.

  
Her oddly coloured eyes - one blue as the ocean, the other shining like an emerald - glanced over the office with its grey and dark tones, which pleased her sight without any disruptive elements. On the contrary, it all merged into a comforting unity. Just the way everything was supposed to be. Old oil paintings adorned the grey walls, framed into gold and silver and an astonishing amount of books occupied the side to her left - only the rotating holo-globe casted some calm blue light. A room with a tale, a clash between new and ancient, but the ink of the history books had not dried yet.

  
With elegant and silent steps in polished black shoes, she approached the carved wooden chessboard and brushed her delicate fingers over the ebony figures. The black king and queen stood together, as they always did, never leaving each others side. There was a deep hope, a whisper, to finally get the permission to move some of those pawns - like a soldier with a nervous finger laying in the trenches as he had to observe the enemies move. But for now she had to stay patient and remain a silent watcher as she heard the clocks ticking. Soon, so she promised herself, the moment for the right shot will come and their carefully laid out plan will unravel itself, causing an avalanche no one could withstand or stop and no one was supposed to - they were the masters who watched the stones fall, piece by piece, and created the picture they desired. A perfect maschine in which even the slightest part worked in harmony with this others. 

  
Her fingers twitched, ready to act - or perhaps it was just the loyal demon of nictone-dependency which decided to visit her once again. His claws buried in her shoulders -  a friendly reminder she was not without marks herself. While the lean woman slowly walked towards her archaic timber desk, she took off the scarf made of the finest silk from her pale neck, exposing it, and threw the warming servant on the armchair across the room without paying attention to its fate. It served it purpose well enough; now it was time to dispose of it. A silent click, and the leathery cigarette case opened like a mechanical clam and revealed the little precious pearl in it: the poison the heiress longed for, exactly 7 doses of it. She placed a flawless exemplar between her blood-red lips, and the calming taste of exquisite tobacco on them stilled the hungry monster, pushed it back into its cave as it purred like a cat. She ignited a match without hesitation and the warm light of the petite flame brought the only accents to this monotone, cold place. For a short moment she glanced into it, fascinated by this display of controlled destruction she moved it to the tip of her life-donor, lighted it up and flooded her tainted lungs with the desired smoke. - causing a warm and welcomed feeling, especially as her eyes wandered across her desk. There it was: A plain silver plate, placed by her assistant, and on it an antique porcelain pot filled with the most precious liquid she could think of: Perfectly brewed Earl-Grey. Smirking with satisfaction, she poured her beloved drink into a simple mug next to it, drowned a sugar cube which weighted exactly 0.55 grams and let the heat take over her lifeless hands. The first rain drops gently knocked in her windown, a slow drizzle.

  
The woman adjusted her round glasses, checked her watch - 3:58 PM - and turned herself to her terminal to prepare everything for what was supposed to happen in exactly 126 seconds. The sky outside had the tone of the dead device in front of her. Like an automated worker, her fingers over the mechanical keyboard, typing in the commands she knew in her sleep and had used countless times. A routine, but one that secured the fate of the world. Their world. It just took a few moments of her time, just one drag of the delicious cigarette, to establish several secured connections around the world as the huge screen in front of her turned to life - ghost hieroglyphs, cryptic lines and symbols emerged out of nothing. Several faceless heads slowly took form - merely a shadow, the masked members of this private ball. But the holo-sensor, hidden behind a little marble statue of the infamous creature of Cerberus, remained turned off - no buzzing in three-quarter time to accompany this faithful event. This time she wouldn't participate, she wouldn't speak. No, today she took the role of Morpheus - assuring the rest of the world continues to participate the dream they dictated and like a mercyless guard she paid attention that no one would inadvertently wake up from the consensual illusion had been created with so much detail. The short-haired woman looked over her left shoulder and smirked as she spotted her black Belgian Malinois sleeping in front of the fireplace. Cerberus, guarding the gate to hell.

  
Now it was just a matter of a few seconds until the elusive meeting could start. Her own ID brightly flashed on the screen: uk.ti.22535. The CEO smiled once again as the other numbers started to join in, a series of soft  _pings_  announced their arrival like an old-fashioned door steward. The guardian took a final deep drag, let the smoke gently escape from her grip before squeezing out the cigarette. As loyal as someone could be, it took a short moment to take out their light forever after they have served their purpose.

_sg.or.di.67892._

_cn.ctym.99230._

_us.un.09763._

_us.dc.01776._

_ch.who.03629._

_ch.db.01120_

_hk.pi.02052_

Splendid, everyone managed to arrive and the connections looked stable -  no one dared to step in her marble with muddy shoes. It was the non-verbal permission to finally rest and take a seat herself. She hungrily took the mug of the precious liquid and sat down in her massive leathery armchair - it offered the perfect listening position for the conversation which took place behind her, and all over the world. She didn't need to see the silhouettes, something else demanded her attention. A deep sip, and the last remnants of unrest were drowned. Three clips, fifteen buttons pressed into her keyboard, and the precious files unfolded on her terminal. Connection established. Remote Access: Sarif Industries. Another click, and she allowed a special participant of the meeting to see the same data she glazed at. Now she could close her eyes - even if just for a brief moment. Breath in, breath out.

  
 _"Is everything in place ?"_  hummed a voice she was way too familiar with through the speakers - even through the distortion she added to conceal the true identity. For a short moment, she imagined how he must be standing in his own office , a cigarette rested between in his well-manicured fingers as he gazed at the stunning view of Hong Kong the holographic window revealed -  like a king admiring his very own empire. A view she had the pleasure to see herself often enough.

  
 _"Almost."_ And there was the other Chinese metropole. The unnatural one, reaching for the sky as the unfortunate left behind suffocated on dust and dirt. A hive, where the drones did not matter at all.

  
_"What do you mean, almost?"_

  
_"I have spoken with Montreal. The broadcast satellites are ours when we need them. A few weeks of discomfort and the public will be primed for our recall."_

  
The Welsh woman did not look at the faceless icons floating behind her, who coloured her desk in bright yellow as they spoke. No, her differently coloured eyes firmly clung to the terminal in front it her, tinted in dark gold, as she eagerly read the classified reports and analyses she had waited for so long. There it was, the holy grail the whole world longed for, reaching out with their greasy dirty hands, like beggars who dragged on your pants and stained it with the pathetic hope that they would get your pity. Hoping you would spare a golden coin. But as soon as their crippled hands reach out for you, someone else will forcefully remind them where they belong before they can even see your face. And soon, this reminder would have to be made again as an unwelcomed person, one who seems himself as the messiah - the great liberator - stepped on the chessboard, although he was ignoring he corpses he was walking on. But he was fragile, like a house of cards - remove the core and it will fall into itself and nothing will be left if its former glory.

  
And they knew exactly how to reach these parts. Another deep warming sip down her throat, and her fingers ran over the cold keys again. "Have you seen her research?"

  
This time, she opened up a private text channel with the mysterious creature who head the great privilege to lead this meeting. She had to admit, she was surprised the Hydra allowed the disciple to step out like this. As she hit enter, she  her eyes closed again and listened carefully to her partner's voice and to the others response . The world was quite, as if someone had emptied the hourglass just for this moment, before it would be refilled and run as usual.

  
_"And the clinics?"_

  
_"We control their purse strings. They will do as we say._ " The ice queen left her ivory tower in Geneva and stepped on the chessboard.

  
Quietly the CEO took little sip of the Earl Grey and warmed her hands after this sudden moment of coldness. A shiver down her spine as the almost unbearable French accent rang in her ears. She would increase the distortion for that line next time. Ping and finally a response showed up on her second screen. "Yes." Satisfied with this simple word she smiled again and took another, deeper sip.

  
 _"I still think we should wait for the referendum."_  The diplomat, collected as always. His line appeared to be the most fragile, since he was calling directly from the UN building in New York. It was careless to call from such an exposed place -  he nearly asked to be attacked as he showed his bare neck.

  
 _"We can't afford to wait! America's science board convenes next month."_  The Grand Knight aggressively proclaimed, like a crusader kicking a door in. The woman hasn't seen him in a while, she should pay him a visit in his castle again.

  
 _"But the mood among the delegates is shifting. I'm positive that given more time…"_  The diplomat nearly bowed in awe.

  
While the others still discussed the matter, a closed case in her eyes, the CEO opened up a report from the borrowed files from Sarif Industries's internal servers. A file that confirmed yet again what she and her husband had suspected for a long time and the world was about to get exposed to - like an highly infectious disease it would spread around the world and change its face forever. Unless they would stop them before it could even leave the lab it was currently located in. She could feel how her heart started to beat faster and opened the chat again. "She has found it. The gene sequence we need." Another sip helped her to control the little rush of excitement before she added: "But she is out of our reach."

  
 _"No, by going public with this discovery Sarif is forcing our hand."_  interrupted the disciple.

  
 _"The world will not change overnight just because David Sarif wills it. Besides, we can do nothing until our biochip is ready."_  The charming Hephaestus calmly spoke from his workshop in Singapore like an old mentor - the smith of this golden age who has created the impossible. How ironic his magical anvil was unable to create a cure for his crippled feet. The short haired always wondered if this man would fall from the Olymp one day as well.

  
 _"I thought you said you were close."_  There was it again, the arrogant voice of the Dragon from the east.

_  
"Finding the correct nerve interface has proven more challenging than anticipated. Fortunately, thanks to David I now know where to look."_

_  
_Suddenly the whole screen turned red, a minor alarm was triggered and activated the anti-hacking counter measures Morpheus, _she_ , rigorously had programmed herself to keep those who dared  to open their eyes and wake up from their dreams back into neverending sleep. Quickly she put the mug away and typed a few commands to see what was going on. Her heart beat faster again, a car rushing to an emergency.

  
_"Intruder detected, secured connection compromised. Intruder has been blocked and identified: -  auto.prog.plague.2213 - Hengsha - China. Affected connection: hk.pi.02052 . Secured connection re-established."_

  
Cold sweat on her forehead, the CEO exhaled deeply out of relief, proud of her own construction at the same time. She left the protocol open, staring at it with a twitching eye, before she decided to take a deeper look into the threat. She was confident that she could trace the bot back to its origin, those who were brave enough to try forbidden fruits were often the mindless ones. Another cigarette was the right tool to choke the undesired feelings of restlessness . "Is she?" flickered in the private text channel just a few seconds later.

  
"Finish the talk, we need to discuss our next manoeuvre in private."


	2. Proteus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting between the conspirators ends, but two of them decide to continue their talk in private. New circumstances require new plans.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am certain I don't have to remind you all to stay focussed on this urgent matter. This society is growing more fragile by the day, as they desperately try to reach the sky with their artificial wings - a place they were never meant to touch or see, and we are the guardians who imperceptibly raise the temperature of the sun. We will make their wings melt to assure that they stay where they are and forget that the illuminating presence exists at all. And, to my great dismay, we once again reach the point where this step becomes more necessary the more time passes. The moment rapidly approaches where the blind sheep start to disobey and to think they can break free from their faithful shepherd - they outrageously believe they are better off their own while they don't see the cliff they are heading towards. And in such times we need to stay stronger as ever and guide them back to the right path."

The distinctive voice of the Primus Illuminatus clanged through the speakers as he would stand right next to the woman at her desk and an unnerving sensation covered her lean body - as if someone had opened up a window to let a cold breeze in. A dominant and reigning voice filled every single room it appeared in, and drew everyone's attention to the Patrician monarch sitting on his golden throne. His voice was never loud or aggressive, on the contrary: A sinister tranquillity enveloped the elderly patriarch like an impervious haze, concealing his true emotions and thoughts. He was the true enlightened, and menial characteristics were something that did not exist in his world - he had to be above them in order to have a clear vision, untainted with blemishes which plagued mankind. But this time there was a subtle undertone of frustration in his carefully chosen words, as some of his loyal generals dared to waste his precious time with taunting each other instead of placing their figures on the map. But truth is, that the old leader hadn't left his icy fortress for quite a while, hidden in the ancient glaciers of Switzerland - and some might say this was the final sign he was slowly perishing ad his fountain of youth was drying-out.. Like bloodthirsty wolves some of the yet so noble members of this elite group scented his vulnerability and waited for the right moment to strike. The CEO turned herself back to the floating heads and contemplated who of them might be the first to do so. Some of them were young, barely initiates, some of them where playing this game longer than the CEO had been walking on this planet. She smiled, promising, as her oddly coloured eyes slowly wandered from one shadow to the other - she would like to see the French woman to be the first to strike and fail horribly, considering how disgustedly she sought his vicinity. The Welsh woman was certain that the ice queen was convinced to be the real puppet master, with her hands on the cables which held the leader alive. _Pride and arrogance lead to a sorry end._

"Of course, and this is why we should finish this talk and get back to our work. We can settle any discrepancies in private to not stall our plan any further. Unless someone has something to add?" Her partner's voice rose once again to lead the conversation, and with a confident and sweet tone he reached for the addictive taste of the fresh air above. He had tasted it once, and it was hard to get back to it without alarming the leader and his guards. A short moment of silence rested among the conspirators, all of them knew the disciple was right and that they had wasted enough time already. The woman who still kept her attention to the connections, the lifelines, started to impatiently knock on the wooden desk and a creeping feeling of uneasiness filled her office. 223 seconds. 223 seconds since the meeting had started and it took too long, longer than it should. Paranoia slowly took over her mind, gently knocked back, as her eyes started to clung to the data stream on her terminal. _230 seconds_. One of them had been compromised already, and with every passed moment, every wasted wink, the danger of being exposed was increased. Usually, regular ticking of her skeleton watch gave her a moment of peace and erased the demons of stress scratching at her door, but this time it was nothing but added pressure. Every single tick, every single tock, opened up one of the countless locks protecting the titans from the unworthy. If they wouldn't stop soon... _242, 243, 244,..._

"It seems like no one has something to add then. Proceed as planned, we shall meet again once this minor gaze has been extinguished before it could become a serious danger." Finally. The old emperor himself proclaimed the end of this meeting, and as the elusive heads nodded simultaneously, they vanished into the unknown - like if they have never been there in the first place.

With the face buried in her hands, she slightly lifted her glasses to pinch her nose bridge- a little ritual, or more like a desperate measure to prevent her numbing migraine to come too close to her. A deep sigh, she was relieved that the dreadful conversation was over. Her narrowed eyes aimlessly wandered through the office as she took another deep breath. Large rain drops banged loudly against the glass wall to her left and boisterous thunder grumbled in the distance - it was obvious that the storm has just started and its aftermath will be perceptible for a very long time. Deep down inside of her, she had the forlorn hope it would pass in a heartbeat. All she wanted was her peace, and her temples started to pulsate again. Then her eyes returned to the barely illuminated terminal, bright light always hurt her. Focused, she read the automated report which was created after the bug had been detected, but there wasn't much information. The CEO grunted, displeased, and grabbed her mug just to realize that the last drop of the delicious tea had already been consumed.

"Out of tea again, Gillian?". The sudden appearance of the soft American voice did not startle the woman, she had expected it. He was the only one who was allowed to use her holocom without any permission. He knew she would accept his calls, and the same counted for her.

"Never getting tired of mocking me, Robert." Gillian stood up from her desk and passed the holographic image without giving it the pleasure of a glance. She knew to well how he looked like and which suit he wore today - it was Friday and they knew they would meet, so she expected him to wear a specific one she had bought him last week. And she knew how uncannily realistic those holograms had become through the years. Of course, otherwise a certain illusion for the public wouldn't have worked so splendidly as it did. Relaxedly, she refilled the mug with the elixir of life. Now, that they were among themselves, she could finally feel the tight chains break off from her lean body and the chocking corset fell down, allowing her to breath again.

"I assume you want to talk about a change of plans." the well-dressed man inquired as the woman named Gillian sat down on the edge of her desk and finally faced his projection. Now she couldn't refrain from examining the vivid image in front of her and once again she caught herself admiring the perfection which was created with some precise coding and groundbreaking technology. She could see every single strand of his characteristic auburn hair, even the ones which were still missing due to the surgery the man had just two weeks ago - she still had to get used to the little mechanical dot decorating his forehead. Her red lips formed a pleased smile. "Among other things." Two gentle knocks on the mug with her ring and the conversation was allowed to officially start.

"You made me very curious with your last words. Can I assume you have something specific in mind?" She spoke slowly, and her strong Posh British accent added a warm tint to every word which escaped her lips, precisely punctuated. The other CEO came one step closer and returned her smile - there was an auspicious shine in his bright green eyes. "Oh yes, Darling. I do. Just like Proteus can change the flow of the sea, so can we change the flow of things to our favour with just a little adjustment." He emphasised his last words by holding his left thumb and pointer finger barely apart while looking directly at her.

"Such nice words, but you haven't answered my question yet."

"Oh, I know," he chuckled "Where would be the fun in revealing everything at the beginning?"

Gillian tilted her head and shook it with her eyes closed. "To say it with your beloved mythology: There is no time to wander through the Minotaur's labyrinth while the hourglass is already running out." Once again the man came a step closer and bowed his head before he silently groaned in pain.

"You still can't move your head freely?" The seriousness in her voice disappeared and yielded to a worried tone as she examined his augmentation again.

"Just tilting hurts a bit, it will be alright soon." Robert harshly rubbed his forehead. "However, you are right. There isn't much time if we want to proceed with a new tactic and I will keep myself short, I promise. My proposal is: Let's get back to our old plan and attack Sarif Industries directly. Now, that we have the final confirmation on the research, we cannon allow them to even arrive in Washington. No chance for revealing it should be granted and we can't allow them to slip through our hands like this."

Her skinny fingers brushed over her full lips, her eyes abstractedly staring through her visitor as her mind processed the clear words. She had to admit that this was the only opportunity to achieve the desired result in the little time they had left, but a public event would be more beneficial to further form the public opinion. Especially since the attempted assassination of Taggart didn't took place like in the script they had carefully written.

"Well, Namir and his team are still undermanned after the... incident in Geneva. We would have more men in Washington, guaranteeing that..."

"I know exactly what you are talking about, and trust me, I share your concerns." Page quickly interrupted her. "I know that attacking the team there would push forward our agenda and the UN resolution. Morgan already has all the reports ready, he only needs to push a button to make Eliza tell the public how Purity First attacked the so called Messiah of Augmentation and killed a horrendous amount of civilians and scientists. But just one simple call, and all that can be changed to Detroit."

The woman nodded, and took a deep sip of the already lukewarm liquid. "I am aware of that. It's true that it wouldn't be much of a change. The team is fully prepared and I don't question their competence. And in addition to this they already analysed the whole building."

"Exactly, we only need to tell them to go there, create some chaos, get Reed and..."

"No." This time it was her who cut her partner off. "Not only Reed, the whole team."

"Excuse me?" His expression puzzled, yet his voice stayed calm. Like a curious predator he tilted his head to the side, his right eyebrow raised and his mouth slightly opened. "Why the whole team? We don't need them for our research."

  
"We don't, but others do." Gillian stood up from her wooden and loyal workspace and headed towards the enormous window. She did not care of he followed her if he even looked at the back of her grey suit. The sight of raindrops in front of her pleased her in a bizarre way. How they banged on the glass door, alone, but immediately seeking their comrades and merging into one. Together they ran down the cold surface, never separated, comfort in unity. "Of course we could simply place Reed at Omega Ranch and force her to work for us at gunpoint. Leaving no choice. But do you really think this would be enough to .. _motivate_ her? That just placing her in a lab with her old mentor Darrow and giving her something to work on will be enough? She would be alone, in a foreign place with people threatening to use violence. Don't mind me, but I don't think this sounds like a motivating environment. We will need the others to create a sense of... _familiarity_. We need to disguise the real face of this project" Her left fingers playfully danced around the edge of the mug as she smiled into the distance. "Besides, we need to concretise the steps up to this point, since our lovely little talk here rolls up the everything else besides the Tyrants."

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Page and Thorndale continue to plan their next steps in private.

Gillian sensed the shift in her partner's mood as he put his hands at his waist and raised his head like a scolding teacher - the silently humming projectors perfectly displayed every single of his emotions, even if they were yet so subtle. His emerald green eyes glanced at the Welsh CEO, squinted, and for a short moment it seemed like the cold from the summer rain outside embraced them both like an unwelcomed blanket. _Tick tock, tick tock_ , only the soft ticking of her mechanical watch disrupted the meaningful silence between them - desperately tried to sync the two beating hearts again. She knew he never took it well when someone dared to disagree with him or gave him the feeling of being wrong, even if it was his own wife, but she was one of the few chosen ones he never got mad at. And she knew he actually considered what she proposed. Gillian looked at her visitor from Hong Kong, over her shoulder, and wondered what he was thinking right now. Was he on the same side? Or was he trying to find a way to get back to his own plan?

The loud cracking of the artificial logs in the fireplace seemed to bring the man back to reality, as he moved his stiff neck to the source of the disturbance and decided to stand right next to her.

"Very well, we might find good use for them after all, even if it's just mundane lab work. Perhaps we can just use them for the biochip development, since Sarif is known to hire only the best. How... _convenient_ for us." Page brushed over his lips with his right thumb.

"I might have an idea how to arrange this."

His voice was warm and sedative as always, even through the speakers in her office. It was strange to see him at her side, yet hearing his voice coming from somewhere else - something she never got used to, something that highly irked her, and obviously the biggest flaw of this technology. An imperfect machine. As he finished his sentence, her slender fingers started to twitch, and her mind immediately looked for a possible solution how to fix ...

"Are you listening?"

"Of course, please continue. Pardon, my mind went somewhere else." Her expression remained stoic and emotionless. Like a puppet mechanically saying the words it was programmed to do. 

"I noticed."

The tone of his words was not upset or angry, but barely worried his counterpart did not pay the attention this delicate matter required. He knew how her mind was wired, and if he could, he would place his hand on her shoulder and squeeze it gently, reassuring. Instead, he plainly nodded. Gillian's eyes returned to the cityscape of London, shrouded in dark clouds and a grey curtain - a welcomed distraction for her mind. Her partner stepped to the side to stand directly behind her and follower her gaze over her shoulder. His hands slowly slid into the soft pockets of his well-tailored suit. For a short moment, she asked herself how perfect the illusion of the city he had to witness must be.

"We could simply extend our previous plan and use the FEMA camp as a temporary station. We will let the Tyrants depot the sedated scientists there and prepare the further departure. One simple call to Joseph, and all should be arranged within seconds. As far as I know, there should be enough cryopods present. The Revised Homeland Security Act should come in handy."

"We also need him to silence the local police department and to lead the occurring investigation into our desired direction." With her free arm resting on her back, the woman turned around to directly look into the eyes of the barely taller man. "I have to admit I am uncertain regarding Manderley's competence. McCann has not been silenced yet. A matter which should have been taken care of a long time ago."

"Who?"

"A local police officer who investigates missing people in Detroit. The people which are at the FEMA camp, pending for transportation. He might become a future annoyance and I already told Manderley about him." Thorndale sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of her nose, directly under her glasses. "Robert, if we really want to do this, every single part in the chain needs to be sturdy and firm. No failure is allowed, and I fear Manderley might be a weak link."

"Let this be my worry, since he is my subordinate. Don't puzzle your precious brain, dearest." The ginger tilted his head and placed an encouraging smile on his pale face. "And if he should happen to break, we will have someone to throw under the bus. But trust me, Manderley is like a dog who needs a firm hand. He is too scared to not do as we please."

Gillian thoroughly looked at every single motion the holographic face made - she knew his smile was not fake, compared to the overwhelming amount of moments when it was. But not here, not with her. She tried her best to return it as warmly as possible. "If you say so." Without any other response, she walked right through the projection and emptied the second round of her tea. The loud _clong_ , with which she places the mug back on her desk, proclaimed that their extensive forging of a plan reached a new state. Her fingers ran through her short white hair, pulled it back, as she watched Page turn to her.

"Glad you agree, Gillian. But I think that we might have another problem. I assume Sarif has some sort of counter insurance in case one of his treasured geniuses happens to go rouge."

"Correct. According to the files from the server, everyone in Reed's team has an GPL implant."

The man furrowed his brow and immediately stopped as a sharp pain reminded him that there was something new, an obstacle, on his forehead, and not completely healed.

"Everyone? Even the non-augmented?"

"Everyone." She confirmed with a nod. "The only officially augmented member is Vasili Sevchenko, he's responsible for the Typhoon. Irrelevant if you ask me, but his knowledge on human/machine interfaces might be practical to us."

"Well, well, I curious to know whether those people are aware of those chips or not." He playfully whistled out loud. "Interesting to see how eagerly Sarif declines all of Lucius's offers, yet he acts no better than us. I would like to see that part in the fine print of the working contract. Besides, everyone is irrelevant besides Reed."

"A pawn tactically sacrificed can still be useful."

The room remained quiet for a while, and the rain drops where louder than ever before. With every moment which passed, the impervious sky got darker and the force of the storm increased. A furious God, looking down on the unworthy and punishing those who dared to look up. Thorndale closed her eyes as she took place on the edge of her desk again. She enjoyed such moments of calm, where no words had to be exchanged and everyone involved knew about the importance of their actions. In moments like these, they dunked their pens in ink made out of the blood of those who had to be sacrificed - ready to write a new chapter of history. She smiled.

"Speaking of pawns, I know how to get rid of the GPLs. At least temporarily." Her oddly coloured eyes returned to meet with those of her partner. His voice was clear and confident, as he reached into the inside pockets of his grey suit. _Click_ , the luxurious lighter in his hands was ignited, and another _click_ when it was closed again. Fascinated be the detailed projection of the cigarette smoke, Gillian tilted her head.

"Doesn't have the FEMA facility have a medical wing? Let's order Sandoval there. He can try to remove or at least disable them for the transport to RBS, and then our scientists there will take of the rest."

"Taggart's little butler?" Her tone was confused, yet the promising smile stayed. If Page could, he would have taken a seat next to her so they could share their poison just like they loved to do.

"He is a specialist on augmentation removal, is he not? Since he and Taggart survived due to unfortunate intervention, we should continue to make use of them as long as we can. In addition to this, he is in Washington. Detroit is not that far away, he should arrive in time if we speedily get out plan underway."

"I like the sound of that. But Savage won't be there to do the procedure."

"We will talk about that later. I will tell Namir to take care of that. It seems like the presence of our attack dog always made Sandoval amusingly nervous."

Gillian chuckled and covered her mouth with her left hand. "You find amusement in the weirdest things, Robert. Very well, you take care of the Tyrants. I will arrange everything with RBS and Omega Ranch, specially with Darrow, since it's all his place now."

She brushed over her red lips again and softly chewed on her lower one. She was inwardly relieved that this matter had been taken care of, but she knew that there was a long way from planning a move on the chessboard to actually moving the figures - her mind would not rest until every single one would stand where it was supposed to be. Wood knocking on wood, slowly moving. To her great pleasure it was just a matter of hours this time, and not of days or even years like the old Patriarch preferred. Sitting on his throne on top of the highest mountain, with his astonishing outlook - seeing things a long time before they even appear on the map. Or perhaps his sight was unclear, blurred because of the clouds surrounding him. A man sitting there for so long, never leaving, that he might have lost the touch to everything beneath him. Slowly she raised her right arm to look at the little watch on her wrist. 605 Seconds. 4:16 PM. They have talked privately 10 minutes now. A satisfying amount so far.

 _Attack dog._.. . Gillian glanced over her office again, over the chessboard, and as her mind recapped Page's words, she unconsciously clung to the sight of their sleeping dog. _Cerberus_...

Startled by the sudden connection, the woman jerked her head back to her husband and gasped. "There is something else I need to tell you. God, I nearly forgot about it. Forgive me."

"Your mind is too occupied with the current matter, as always". Softly chuckling, the ginger approached her and his hologram stopped right before her. She lifted her head to look him into his eyes again. "What is it, dearest?"

"Something relatively small compared of what we just talked about." She made a gesture like if she was throwing away a piece of paper. "But did not we discuss the subject of you and securing your connections just a week ago?". Swiftly she escaped to the side, stopped right next to him just a few inched away, smirking, and swung her right pointer finger in a scolding way. "Someone here was not paying attention to my lessons."

The culprit raised his hands in defence, his green eyes wide open and a wide smile revealed his perfectly straight teeth. "Wait, do you mean that...?!"

"There has been a bug in your line. I have terminated it, but I can't tell how much information it got. It was programmed to be activate as soon as your connection showed any activity."

Page shrugged, unimpressed, but there was a hint of anger he failed to suppressing his movement, as his nostrils widened for a second and his right eyebrow started to twitch. An outrageous provocation directed at the self-proclaimed king, as the dirty hands of a peasant had the daring to scratch on the golden door. An insult which needed to be prosecuted and Robert could feel how his disgust started to rise. And the pale tone on his face yield to a dark red one. The calm see became rough out of the sudden. _He does not make such pathetic mistakes._ Quickly he reached for his golden lighter again - _click, clack, click, clack_. His soft thumb stroke the cold, even metal - opened and closed it in a regular rhythm. Grinding his teeth, he continued to create this odd melody in both offices and with every click the storm slowly broke open. Often just a yet so subtle change on the atmosphere was enough to tip his balance.

"Robert." Gillian's warm voice reached out to him like a lighthouse in the dark."Calm down, I will take of it and find the one who is responsible." He looked directly into her eyes, his jaw hurt painfully. "I have tracked it down to Hengsha. And we both know who runs the executive there. No one will even notice when a filthy hacker will disappear from the crowded streets. Perhaps the Harvester will finally turn them into something useful."

The man simply hummed and put his lighter back into the warm pocket, right at his rapidly beating heart. "I trust you. But if you don't mind, I would like to change the topic." He took a deep drag of his cigarette and exhaled loudly.

"Of course. What do you want to talk about?"

With his sweaty, cold hand the CEO ran over his face before stretching his tensed limbs. "Savage. As you hopefully remember I ordered him back to Hong Kong for a personal talk regarding our OCM project."

"Yes. Every second he is separated from that bloody Kavanagh will help us. Next week, correct?"

"Correct." He chuckled. "I want you to be there. But I don't suppose you will make it in time so we can watch our little puppets attack...?"

Gillian returned the chuckle, relieved the little outburst of his has disappeared as quickly as it has appeared. "Robert, even if I would run to the helipad right now, I wouldn't make it. It's still a ten hours flight. And there are still things I need to arrange."

"I know, I know. Just a thought."

"We can celebrate our triumph tomorrow, I promise you."

A promising, cocky smirk decorated his face as he came one step closer to his wife, his voice low. "Maybe we can re-watch the recordings while enjoying some exquisite liquor?"

Gillian leaned it and smiled back at him and whispered: "I like the sound of that." Suddenly she stepped back, escaped his vicinity and turned herself to the window once again. _4:23_. "But don't you think we should ensure that we have something to celebrate? Let's end this conversation and get the things on their way. We can talk when it's time."

The tall man did not dissent - he simply nodded as his projection dissolved, leaving the CEO of Thorndale Industries alone in her office.


End file.
